Curses & Blood

by Kim Richardson

  Holy mother of all that is holy. “Can it get any worse?” I asked, hating the fear and desperation in my voice.

  “Sammy darling,” expressed Faris, “it can always get worse.”

  I pushed my cup away. “Two seals down. One seal to go. If we can find the EAM group, we can find the book. We can still try to ask the Gray Council. If we explain—”

  “You don’t have to,” said Logan, his voice flat. “I know where they are.”

  I sat straighter. “You do? How?”

  He raised his brows at me. “If you’d answered your phone, I would have told you that I found them. It’s why I’ve been trying to call you all day.”

  Ooops. My bad. “I had my phone turned off,” I said, noticing my grandfather watching me with a frown. “Don’t like to be disturbed while I’m working.”

  Faris snorted. Now I felt like a jackass, but at least this was good news.

  My heart thumped. “Where are they?” I asked, daring to feel a satisfying thrill of a small victory.

  Logan smiled at me, like a man who held the information I was desperate to have and knew it. “Hell’s Kitchen.”

  I didn’t ask how he got the intel. Frankly, I didn’t care. All I cared about was finding the book and burning it before we were all obliterated.

  Excitement rushed through me. Hell’s Kitchen was only a ten-minute cab ride. It would all be over soon. I could finally have my life back, whatever that was.

  Gotcha, you bastards.

  I pushed off my stool just as smoothing black came swooping through the open kitchen window followed by a smaller blur of blue-gray feathers.

  Poe skidded to a halt, and so did the pigeon next to him.

  I smiled at the raven. “Since when do you travel in pairs?” I laughed, tension lifting from my shoulders at the sight of my friend and familiar.

  Poe let out a small caw. “Since I started my new job.”

  “Your what?”

  The raven pointed to the pigeon with his wing. “This is Bill. My partner.”

  “His supervisor,” informed the pigeon, puffing out his chest importantly. “You’re still in training.” He was a magnificent blue-gray pigeon, with a dash of emerald around his neck, like a scarf. Though smaller than Poe, he was pretty large for a pigeon, just an inch or so shorter.

  I looked at the two birds, my chest clenching at what I was seeing unfold. “Poe. What’s going on?”

  The raven hung his head and waddled across the counter to stand before me. “Sam. You know I love you.”

  “But…”

  Poe cleared his throat. “But I don’t want to be your familiar anymore.”

  Ouch.

  The raven shifted his weight. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t heard that one before,” I said, making Faris laugh.

  The raven shook his head. “I was never a very good familiar. You know that. I didn’t take orders very well. I felt trapped. I felt like I couldn’t do what I wanted. I felt like a slave.”

  I cringed inwardly. “I get your point.” Was he trying to kill me?

  “Why do you think I’ve been stealing all that jewelry for years?”

  “Because you like bling?”

  “No. Because I wanted to use it as my retirement. I’ve got no money of my own… never have.” The raven let out a sigh. “I couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted my independence. I wanted a real job. I was never cut out to be a familiar. You have to see that.”

  I opened my mouth to say that he had a real job, but then I realized that being a familiar wasn’t exactly what he wanted. Familiars were at our mercy. Us witches.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What do you need from me?”

  The raven’s black eyes bore into mine. “I need you to let me go. I need you to do the spell to remove me as your familiar.”

  I stared at the raven for a long moment, trying to wrap my brain around what he’d just said. He’d never looked so happy. Besides, deep down I’d always known he would leave me one day. I just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

  “I mean… look, you have another familiar,” said Poe, angling his head toward the mid-demon. “Faris is a much better familiar than I ever was.”

  “When the bird is right, the bird is right,” said Faris, beaming.

  It also made sense now, why Poe had been so open to the idea of Faris being my “other” familiar. The bird had wanted out. And he’d seen Faris as his scapegoat.

  “Fine.”

  Poe perked up. “Fine?”

  “Yes. Stay still so I can say the spell,” I told the raven, and Poe froze like he’d been taxidermized. Grief slammed into me, and I strained to keep it from showing on my face. My eyes closed, and a lump filled my throat.

  Focusing, I tapped into the magic of my rings, letting it spill into me, warm and comforting. “Hear me now, Poebisael, Malphas demon of the Netherworld,” I said, my voice steady despite my grief, “I, Samantha Beaumont, who summoned you from the astral substance, bearing your true sigil and name. Whose sole purpose is to work my will upon this plane. To help me with my magic rite, in the light of day or dark of night. One who knows and one who sees. Magic and its mysteries.” I opened my eyes and said, “Poebisael. I release you.”

  My breath came in fast, but by the time I had exhaled, the energy flow tingled all through my core and exited through my fingertips.

  Our connection was severed. Poe was no longer my familiar.

  I opened my eyes. I stood a little awkwardly for a moment, wondering if Poe was going to jump up and down in joy. That would have killed me. But the raven just stood there, looking a little shocked.

  And then Bill cleared his throat. “The job, Poe. It’s why we’re here. Remember?”

  “Oh, right. Here.” Poe moved forward and offered me his leg. A small piece of parchment was rolled up in a tight tiny scroll. “A message from the Dark Witch Court.”

  I took the scroll. “Thanks.”

  “Thanks, Sam,” said the raven, looking a little sheepish. “For what it’s worth, I couldn’t have asked for a better witch. You were the best. I have to go now… but I’ll see you again soon.”

  My eyes burned, and I blinked fast. “I bet you will.”

  And with that, Poe, the new messenger for the Court and his supervisor pigeon took off, flew out the open window, and disappeared into the night sky.

  “Are you okay, Samantha?” My grandfather materialized next to me. “I know how difficult it is to unfamiliar oneself with one’s familiar.”

  “I’m fine.” Uncomfortable, I wiggled in my seat, trying to release some of the tension in my body. I unrolled the parchment, angry at my trembling fingers. I didn’t want Logan or even Faris to see me like this—emotional and weak, my heart a little broken.

  “You must see that now,” continued my grandfather. “The bird was never a good fit.”

  “I know.” I cleared my throat and flattened the note on the counter to hide my shaking hands as I began to read.

  Dear Ms. Samantha Beaumont,

  In light of the recent deaths of two Council members and the demon attacks in Mystic Quarter this evening, we cannot in good faith accede to your continued employment with us. Since you have demonstrated an inability to perform your tasks and were unable to shut down a Rift in a timely fashion, the Dark Witch Court has decided to terminate your employment for poor performance effective immediately. We regret to inform you that your services are no longer required.

  Best wishes for your success in your future endeavors.

  Sincerely yours,

  Magda Ratson, Dark Witch Court, Sec.

  Mystic Quarter, New York

  Swell. I’d just been fired.

  CHAPTER 18

  I scowled all the way to Hell’s Kitchen, which was a nineteen-minute car ride in Logan’s black BMW sedan.

  I was mad. Hell, I was mad as hell. No, I was mad as the universe, if there was such a thing. The Dark Witch Court had fired me, jus
t when I was so close at putting a stop to the EAM, just when I’d finally had a break in the case.

  They’d upped and fired my witch ass.

  Granted, I wasn’t working for them anymore, but that didn’t stop me from kicking some EAM ass. I still had to stop them from breaking the last seal and completing the spell. I still had to destroy the book. Only this time, I wasn’t doing it for the Court or for money. I was doing it for me, for my grandfather and Charlotte, for my Aunt Evanora, and all us magical half-breeds. Even the angel-borns. Why not? Because the Veil would fall if we didn’t stop them, and that meant I was doing it for the humans too.

  Tran’s face with a triumphant smile kept flaring up in my mind’s eye. The bastard was haunting my subconscious. No doubt he was gloating. No doubt I still wanted to punch him.

  I’d really wanted to solve the case. I wanted to prove to the Court that I was an important and invaluable member of their team. But it looked like I was never going to get that chance.

  The Court didn’t want me? Screw them. I wasn’t going to sit here and mope around in my self-pity. I’d figure out a way to pay the bills and put food on the table one way or another. I always did. Surprisingly, it was liberating being fired. Yes, my bank account would suffer, but I didn’t have the mounting stress of solving cases or the need to constantly prove to them I was capable.

  Ultimately, the Court and I were never a good fit. It was like trying to force the wrong lid on a container. It just didn’t work no matter how hard you pressed it down. Perhaps this was meant to be.

  This time, I’d do things my way.

  I glanced out the window, hoping to find a black raven. I didn’t know why I was torturing myself. Poe was gone. Yes, I was sad, but at the same time I was proud of him. He’d taken charge of his own life and made something out of it. He was now truly independent.

  At least he had a job.

  I sighed through my nose and scowled some more until I felt like my eyebrows were going to reach my mouth.

  A warm hand suddenly covered mine, and I jerked my hand back, immediately regretting it at the look of anger on Logan’s face. His hold on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw muscles clenching.

  Great. Way to go, Samantha. Now look what you’ve done.

  My face flamed. I didn’t know why I did that. I wasn’t mad at Logan anymore. How could I be when the angel-born had risked his life for me? He’d had found the location of the EAM and had wanted to share it with me, but I was so stubborn and angry at the time that I’d refused to answer his calls.

  What did my stubbornness prove? That I was an idiot. If I had answered the phone, we could have stopped the EAM from breaking the second seal and saved lives.

  I stole a look at Logan again and caught Faris watching me. Great. He’d seen what had just transpired and I was willing to bet, Logan knew that he’d seen it too. This was an excellent car ride. I wanted to bash my head against the window. Maybe it would get the stupid out of me.

  What the hell was wrong with me? It was like I was purposely jeopardizing this… whatever this was between us. It was as though I was finding excuses not to be with him.

  The only logical explanation was—I was afraid. I was afraid to lose him. Damn. I had already fallen for the guy, hard. Talk about bad timing.

  I thought about reaching out to touch his hand, but that would appear lame and false. I’d already pulled away, now I had to deal with the consequences.

  Look at me. A Dark witch, afraid of a little love. Pathetic.

  I stared at the window, trying to focus on our critical situation with the EAM group, but I found my thoughts jumbled and not wanting to listen.

  Faris’s closed off manner was disturbing to say the least. I’d gotten so used to his loudmouth and crazy antics, so seeing him with his face creased in worry only made me feel worse. I’d tried doing something nice for him, and now I wondered if reuniting him with his great-great-granddaughter had been the right thing to do. Perhaps he would have been better off not knowing her after all this mess with the Magicae Lucis. The mid-demon loved his great-great-granddaughter with a fierce intensity. I had a feeling if he reached the EAM crowd before we did, there’d be nothing left for us to do.

  I shifted in my seat, trying to rid the stinging pain in my back, but it didn’t work. My grandfather’s replenishing mud-tea had helped with the pain and rejuvenated my body, but I was tired, more so than I should be. I was beginning to feel the effects of two straight days of fighting off demons and, by doing so, draining my magic and energy.

  I thought of my aunt, dipping in her hot cauldron filled with mud. A mud bath sounded pretty good right about now.

  Logan pulled up on the curb of 10th Avenue on the corner of West 52nd Street and killed the engine. The clock on his dashboard displayed midnight.

  “Where?” I asked Logan and felt some of the tension leave the air between us.

  Logan lowered his head and pointed through the windshield. “That brown apartment building across the street.”

  I knew better than to ask Logan how he came about this information. “Are they in there now?” I was very aware that he was avoiding my eyes.

  “Yes. I have three operatives watching the building. They’re in there. They leave in shifts to get supplies.”

  “How many are there?” came Faris’s voice from the back.

  “About a dozen.”

  “A dozen armed to the teeth,” replied the mid-demon. “Sounds like fun.” I heard the distinctive cracking of knuckles.

  I turned in my seat to look at him. He was smiling, but not in a good way. “Remember why we’re here. It’s like we talked about. I just need the book.”

  Faris’s smile turned devious. “I know, Sammy darling.” His lips twisted into a quiet snarl as his dark eyes swept up and down the street.

  “How do we do this?” Logan looked at me.

  Adrenaline pounded through my body, causing my pulse to rise. “Just get me a clear path to the book. Nothing else matters. Destroy the book, and the EAM have nothing. We can all go home to bed.” I was going to burn that damn book so no one could ever try and rid the world of magic or anything equally malevolent, ever again.

  Logan typed something on his phone and then slipped it into his pocket. “We’re ready.” Our eyes locked and a hint of unease stained his features. I was tempted to grab his face and kiss him. Yeah. Desperate situations made me a little unstable. I squashed the thought since I wasn’t sure it would be welcomed.

  “Let’s do this,” I said as an alternative and clambered out of the car.

  Instead of crossing the street, Logan moved to the back of his car. He popped the trunk and pulled out a black vest.

  “Here,” he said, bringing it to me. “It’s a bullet-proof vest. Put it on.”

  I frowned at him. Again with the orders. I wasn’t his child. And if I was his wife, I would have punched him in the mouth. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not putting that on. I don’t know where it’s been. Besides, I have magic. I don’t need this thing.”

  “Do you have magic to stop bullets?” Logan’s tone was hard. He was angry. “Because, the last time I checked, you didn’t.” He thrust the vest at my chest. “Put. It. On.”

  I stood my ground. “Don’t tell me what to do.” Yes, I was being childish. Couldn’t help it.

  Faris made a huffing sound of exasperation. “You should listen to Boy Scout, Sammy darling. Put on the pretty vest. There’s a good witch.”

  I gave Faris a hard look. “Since when do you agree with him.”

  “Since it could mean your death, my little witch.”

  Temper flaring, I yanked the vest out of Logan’s grip and slipped it over my head. I pulled the straps on the side as tightly as they would go. It was like I was wearing a lifejacket without the water or the boat.

  “I look ridiculous. I have no more breasts.” Worse, it felt constricting.

  Logan stood looking at me, a hint of a smile tugging the corners of his lips. �
�Try not to get shot in the head,” he said, and I glowered at him.

  After Logan pulled on his vest, we crossed the street. When we made it to the entrance of the brown brick apartment building, we were greeted by three strangers. Three angel-born operatives.

  The two males were in their early thirties, both slim and the athletic type, tall and broad-shouldered. One was a black male with dark, intense eyes, and the other was fair with short auburn hair. Both were dressed in subtle black clothes, fitted under short black jackets with lots of pockets.

  The female was short, blonde, and all springy muscles. Her long hair was pulled back into a French braid. She flashed me a smile and I was surprised at how easily my smile appeared on my face.

  The three of them sported the same bullet-proof vests. At least we were in cahoots with this new fashion faux pas.

  Logan pointed to the operatives. “This is Vince,” he gestured to the black angel-born. “Liam and Naomi. This is Samantha and Faris.”

  “Hi,” I said, not knowing what else to say. Their nonresponse didn’t make me feel any better, but I wasn’t here to make friends.

  “No one’s come out for the past half-hour,” Vince told Logan, his voice deep and pleasant.

  “Are they still in the basement?” asked Logan.

  “Yes,” came Naomi’s voice, and I was surprised at how throaty it was for such a petite woman.

  Logan cast his gaze about the street and then pulled out a gun from the holster around his waist. “Let’s get Samantha that book. Shall we?”

  Logan moved to the front entrance, pulled open the glass door, and went in quickly followed by Vince, Liam and Naomi.

  “Looks like we have our celestial cavalry,” I said, turning around to face Faris. My smile fell. “You’re wearing a vest?” How did he manage that? I hadn’t seen an extra one in Logan’s trunk.

  Faris flashed me a smile, curling his fingers around the top shoulder part of his vest and then letting it snap back like suspenders. “I couldn’t be the only one not wearing one. Now could I?” He winked. “We’re a team. And this team wears vests.”